Singing Rainbows

I hope you love birds too. It is economical. It saves going to heaven. ~Emily Dickinson

They have mastered every color of the rainbow, wear rainbows on their breast, dress their heads, bodies, tails in rainbows, personalize color in a way unmatched anywhere on earth. Some are single colored, blood red, the yellowest of yellows, blues that would tax the talents of Van Gogh himself to capture on canvas.

Others appear as if rainbows melted, became liquid and the colors dripped from the sky, rained from the heavens, landing on the birds as they flitted from branch to branch, soared above the great green canopies, made the long trek from pole to pole over vast turbulent, turquoise oceans reflecting mini white suns on the tips of the waves, landing on the birds in patterns that our wildest imaginations would be unable to conjure during all the collective dreams of our lifetimes, landing on out stretched wings creating color patterns as surreal as a Dali painting, surreal yet real because they are not confined to a lifeless, two dimensional canvas.

They are living rainbows, winged rainbows cutting slices in the azure sky, twisting and turning as if the joy of the colors incites a flock to dance effortlessly. They are tiny jewels shimmering opalescent at the mouth of the flower extracting nectar on slender tongues. They are lovers expressing love in song to their beloved. They possess some of the most beautiful voices in existence, jointly speak in voices so melodious their songs could move Beethoven to tears at his inability to recreate them in his grandest symphony, to even approximate the song that emanates from these singing rainbows.